


Happy Birthday, Will Graham

by raiast



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, Hannibal wants to celebrate with him, M/M, Will Graham has a birthday just like normal people do, cuddles for warmth, not a medically appropriate way to treat hypothermia, oh look it worked, or maybe it is I didn't care enough to actually research, pretty sure it's just a trope to get characters naked though, season 1 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 16:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18920641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiast/pseuds/raiast
Summary: Will's birthday has arrived and while he'd be happy not to celebrate, Hannibal is having none of that. He wants to spend the day with Will, doing whatever it is that Will wants to do.





	Happy Birthday, Will Graham

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, this is nothing I'm supposed to be working on, but I've had it mostly finished for ages and just decided to get it done today.
> 
> Also, I probably don't have to tell you get getting someone naked and cuddling probably isn't the most effective way to combat hypothermia but this is fanfiction and smut, so I don't care. If you or anyone else that isn't a fictional character looking for sex seems to be experiencing hypothermia please contact a medical professional.

“Tell me, Will,” Hannibal’s voice broke the silence, pulling Will’s attention from the bookshelves immediately. For the last ten minutes the only sounds to pervade the room had been the cracking of the fireplace and the light scratching of Hannibal’s pencil as he sketched. “Do you have any plans for your birthday tomorrow?”

Will turned to frown down at him from his place on the mezzanine. “How--” he stopped the unnecessary question. How did Hannibal Lecter know anything? It was probably listed in his patient file. “No,” he answered instead. “I prefer to let them pass unmarked.”

“Why?”

He had known the question was coming--it was an inevitability when these conversations arose--but that didn’t make it any easier to answer. Will shrugged, turning his back on the way Hannibal was peering up at him. He let his fingers ghost across the spines of the books that lined the shelves. “Doesn’t seem like much of a cause for celebration.” Hannibal, in his unerring politeness, was likely forming a counter-argument to that statement, so Will decided to forge on. “We were poor. And I didn’t have the most attentive dad. And we moved around so often I never really got the chance to make the kind of friends that cared about birthdays.” He tossed a glance back down at Hannibal over his shoulder. “That about sum it up?”

“Those were birthdays of your childhood, yes, and understandable that you have built your expectations from them. But you are a man, now,” Will was about to interject that he _still_ didn’t have any friends, even as a man, when Hannibal continued, “A birthday can be celebrated even alone. It is a day for selfishness. When was the last time you allowed yourself to be selfish, Will?”

He had a point there, although Will was loathe to admit it. He turned around to lean his forearms against the railing. Hannibal was still peering up at him, the flickering light from the fireplace casting sharp shadows across his sculpted cheekbones. His ashen hair, normally shaped obediently, was staging an end-of-day mutiny to drift down his forehead. Fleetingly Will thought, not for the first time, that it was truly unfair how handsome the man below him was. “What are you suggesting?”

“Do something for yourself. Turn off your phone, shirk your responsibilities for one day. If you could do anything you desired tomorrow, what would it be?”

Will shrugged again, contemplating. He decided immediately not to take the words literally and tell Hannibal what he would do all day if he could do _anything_. Difficult to shake as the good doctor was, he likely wasn’t prepared to hear the answer to that. He thought more practically instead. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go ice fishing.”

“May I join you?”

 _Nothing_ could have prepared Will for that response. He blinked down at Hannibal, attempting to remember how words were formed and let loose into the air. “You...want to go ice fishing.” It wasn’t exactly a question.

“If you’ll teach me,” Hannibal confirmed, nodding. “I think it would be quite pleasant to spend your birthday with you.”

Will ignored the second part of that statement, adamant that the flush that burned across his face was from the warmth of the fireplace ten feet away. He found his lips twisting into a wry smile. “Not much to teach. You just sit over a hole and wait.” When Hannibal didn’t immediately attempt to rescind his self-invitation, Will felt that some subtle dissuading may be in order. “It’ll be cold,” he warned.

Hannibal’s perfect mouth twisted into its own smirk. “Activities that involve the word ‘ice’ usually are.”

“You can’t wear a suit,” he tried, attempting to ignore the question of why he was trying to talk the man out of this in the first place.

“I do own clothes other than suits,” he informed Will.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Will breathed with a scoff, though he had the distinct feeling that Hannibal had heard every word. “We’d have to have an early start. Five o’clock. With an hour’s drive from Baltimore that clocks you at waking up around 3:30.” It was the last defense he had but, in Will’s opinion, the strongest. Most normal people would shudder with disgust at the concept of _waking_ at five in the morning, let alone having to make an hour-long drive by then.

Will, as it turned out, had failed to remember that Hannibal wasn’t quite a _normal_ person.

He shot a brief, pleased smile up to Will. “Five o’clock then,” he agreed.

And that seemed to settle the matter. Tomorrow morning, Will was taking Hannibal ice fishing.

\---

Will woke with a start, every primal instinct in him flaring to life to tell him that he wasn’t alone. For a singular, terrifying moment, he felt like prey. And then he sat up and stared at the giant stag before him. It snorted and shook, it’s raven feathers fluttering ethereally. Its black eyes contemplated Will for a moment before it turned and walked through his front door, standing wide open, though Will didn’t remember leaving it that way. In fact, if he thought about it, Will didn’t remember falling asleep on his couch. Hadn’t he made it upstairs before he crashed?

Will swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed the inconsistencies from his mind. His nerves seemed to hum and buzz and pull him along after the stag; each moment of hesitation had a dull ache striking through him, but following steadfast quelled the uncomfortable sensation.

He followed the creature out the door, off of his porch, and across the stark white field that surrounded his house. The stag didn’t falter in its steps, nor pause for Will in any way, trekking confidently towards the dark lake near his property. Despite the snow and frigid temperatures, the water was not frozen over, but black and still. Will cocked his head in interest as the stag continued on in its relentless pace, hooves resting solidly on the surface as it continued. Will paused briefly at the edge of the lake. He wasn’t some mystical creature, like the nightmare creature that was both a stag and a raven. He was just a man. He couldn’t walk on water. At the same time, he knew that part of him _was_ that creature. Knew it the way that he knew his name was Will Graham.

He placed one unsure foot over the water and brought it down, expecting the shock of frigid water. Instead, he found solid ground. It was with an amazed smile that he let his next foot fall further ahead, finding the same result. He continued following the stag without another thought. Twenty feet out into the lake, the stag’s hooves began to sink into the water. Its body disappeared little by little as it forged ahead, unafraid. Will, however, stayed solidly above the surface. He paused at the place where the last of the Ravenstag had disappeared, unsure not how to proceed.

_Will._

Will turned at the sound. His blood ran cold. He recognized this creature as well. The man that wasn’t a man, black as pitch with a frighteningly beautiful rack of antlers curving from his skull.

 _Will_ , it called again.

Will glanced between it and the spot below him, where his Ravenstag should be. He tilted his head in confusion as the water began to split under his feet. He blinked several times in succession, shaking his head as numbing cold began to flood into his limbs. He was uncomfortably aware that he lacked any feeling at all in his feet, though they continued to hold him steadily.

“Will!” It was a voice this time, familiar, not the terrifying rasp of the wendigo. Will glanced up to Hannibal, inching forward cautiously on the ice ten feet away from him with a hesitant arm outstretched. “Will, I want you to slowly step towards me.”

Will obeyed immediately, and it took him a moment to place the alarm in Hannibal’s tone. He looked to his feet again, clad only in his socks, and spotted the fissure that was slowly cracking in the ice around him. He froze when he spotted it, the awareness of his situation flooding through him immediately and quickly drowning out his dream. His eyes pulled back to Hannibal in desperation mere seconds before the ice beneath him gave in and he plunged into the icy depths of dark water.

Every inch of him stung with the cold. He wagered that, even if he could breathe, every inhalation would be pure torture. He threw his arms up immediately on instinct and kicked his legs; every one of the muscles in his body felt sluggish from the piercing cold. He was vaguely aware of his fingers grasping the edges of the ice and kicked his legs harder, pulling himself from the suck of the unmerciful cold. For one terrifying moment he imagined a Ravenstag beneath him, locking onto his foot and pulling him down, down. But then he was breaking the surface of the water with a sobbing gasp, and Hannibal’s hands were grasping his forearms and pulling him forward.

For never having gone ice fishing before, Hannibal knew how to handle himself on a frozen lake. He had dropped along side the hole Will’s body had made, spreading his body weight as widely across the ice as he could as he grasped at Will and yanked him out of the water. He rolled their bodies a bit farther from the compromised ice and then he was up, and Will was being hoisted and held against his solid warmth. Will wanted to thank him, but he could only manage to chatter his teeth and curl against the one thing in his world that wasn’t _cold_.

It may have been a minute or an hour for all Will knew, but somehow they were back in his house and Hannibal was setting him down in his room, peeling off the soaking clothes that clung to his frame intimately and dropping them to the floor between them. He disappeared for a moment and reappeared with a towel, first patting down Will’s limbs and torso and then rubbing it through his soaked curls.

When he was sufficiently dry, Hannibal deposited Will into his bed. Will blinked up at him as he fisted his hands in the sheets to wrap around himself, shuddering violently. True to his word, Hannibal was clad in something other than a three piece suit. Will registered dark corduroy slacks and a caramel colored sweater--looking suspiciously like cashmere--as Hannibal stripped them off hurriedly and slipped beneath the sheets. Will didn’t think twice when Hannibal beckoned him near, scooting forwards into the beacon of warmth that was his solid body and sighing contentedly as every achingly freezing inch of his skin made contact. Hannibal’s arms wrapped around him, his hands running soothingly up and down his back, urging blood to return to the area.

“I know it’s your birthday, but I’m afraid the ice may be too unstable for fishing today,” Hannibal informed him sardonically, and Will could only give a breathless laugh, burrowing further into the warm safety of his embrace.

After several long moments, Will began to become aware of things other than the cold. He hoisted his frozen feet up to curl between Hannibal’s hot thighs and breathed deeply against his chest. One of his arms was pinned between them and the bed; the other was resting tucked under his chin, his fingers curling idly in the thick, coarse hair that spread across Hannibal’s chest. One of Hannibal’s hands had journeyed from his back to stroke through Will’s damp hair. When it seemed as though he might not lose his toes, Will stretched his legs out, settling against the full length of Hannibal’s body. It was then that he registered exactly how bare Hannibal’s body was.

He wished he had a roaring fireplace for which to blame the ensuing flush on, but it was only him and Hannibal, cocooned tightly in his cotton sheets. There wasn’t a single rational part of Will that wanted to pull attention the matter, but his traitorous tongue flapped regardless.

“I’m familiar with the whole hypothermia and body warmth concept,” he conceded, “Tell me why _you_ aren’t wearing any underwear?” he questioned. He hadn’t necessarily hoped to make Hannibal uncomfortable with the question (accusation?), which was good, because there was not a hint of shame to be found in Hannibal’s response.

“I often don’t.”

 _Fuck_. Will was vaguely aware of his fingers spasming to clench briefly at Hannibal’s chest hair. For whatever reason, the statement sent a different sort of heat flooding through Will’s body. He found it advisable to deftly pull his pelvis away from Hannibal’s hip as his cock stirred at the thought.

However slick he thought he was being, Hannibal was having none of it. He tutted above Will’s head as he attempted to shy away, bringing one firm hand to his low back to pull Will’s hips flush against his own once more.

“Hannibal-” Will started, intent on warning him that he was not in any state for platonic snuggling, but the low voice above him cut him off.

“Don’t you remember what I told you about being selfish on your birthday, Will?”

Will felt his entire body stiffen at the suggestion. Every inch of him wanted to melt into the words and writhe against the delicious body next to him. His mind, as per usual, continued to hold up the works. “I...I’ve never…”

“Never been intimate with a man before?” Hannibal provided. While it wasn’t perhaps exactly the sentiment Will had intended on conveying, it was close enough.

He let out a shaky breath, a lovely zing tingling through him as the coarse hair of Hannibal’s chest tickled his lips. “Never even been attracted to one, before you,” he admitted. It took every ounce of courage in him to tilt his head to gaze up at Hannibal.

Hannibal rewarded his courage by removing every other hurdle and bringing his lips down to settle against Will’s. It was an odd sensation, to feel as if he was drowning and finally allowed to breathe all at once. He sighed against Hannibal’s mouth at the contact and the good doctor took the initiative to deepen the kiss by slipping his tongue into Will’s mouth to meet his own.

Will couldn’t hold back his moan at the development, surging forward to push his body flush against Hannibal’s form. He slid one leg between his and was met with an answering hardness against his thigh that had every inch of Will’s body singing. Hannibal was moving then, and before Will could fully comprehend what was happening he was flat on his back, Hannibal’s weight and heat pressing him securely into the mattress as his hot mouth lavished the column of Will’s throat with wet sucks and kisses.

Will keened beneath him, bucking up into his solid form and bringing his hands around to grasp helplessly at Hannibal’s toned back. The breath that Hannibal let out against his skin might have been a pleased chuckle, but all Will could focus on was their stiff cocks pressing against each other, and then Hannibal’s mouth was on him once more, spreading wet heat across Will’s collarbone and down his sternum. He nipped at the flesh of his side above his hip and Will whimpered, writhing upwards once again. Hannibal brought one commanding hand to stroke up Will’s torso and then press into him, his other coming to grip Will’s hip, holding him still as his clever mouth traveled even further south.

It was an animalistic sort of sound that tore from Will’s throat as Hannibal’s mouth swallowed his aching cock, ecstasy and need and terror all at once. Will barely registered the noise as having come from himself at all; when he did another pulse of blood surged to his cock, already stiff with Hannibal’s lips and tongue working it deftly.

“ _Ah_ , Ha-Hannibal…” he groaned. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to actually complete a sentence or just wanted an excuse to let the perfect name roll off of his tongue. “Hannibal-- _fuck--yes,_ ” it was the only encouragement he could offer as his cock quivered in the wet heat of Hannibal’s mouth. “Yes, _yes_.”

He was torn between the desire to watch Hannibal’s mouth work around him and let himself melt bonelessly into the mattress below him. Somehow, he found the strength to prop an arm behind his head so he could study the way that Hannibal’s impossibly sharp cheeks hollowed as he flowed around Will’s hardness. He’d had a few blowjobs before, had watched plenty of porn stars complete the act. It seemed that the effortless grace that surrounded Hannibal in everything else he did extended to sucking cock; he made the act an art form of its own. Will was instantly glad that he had decided to take the effort to watch. He brought his free hand down to stroke through Hannibal’s soft hair, across a sharp cheekbone, letting one finger trail across the lips that enveloped him.

“Beautiful,” he found himself breathing. “Beautiful, beautiful... Hannibal... _fuck_ , I’m--I’m gonna come,” he groaned in warning. With any other partner his lack of stamina may have left him embarrassed, but Hannibal sent a blaze flaming through Will that he couldn’t hope to quell. The good doctor merely hummed around him and kept steady in his pace. Will squeezed his eyes shut, one hand clamping in his own hair and the other tangling fiercely in Hannibal’s as he stilled the man’s head. White hot pleasure pulsed behind his eyes and then through every inch of him as he spilled hotly into Hannibal’s mouth. He felt the orifice working around him as it swallowed instinctively and one more primal groan ripped from Will’s throat as he gave a final thrust into Hannibal’s mouth.

He was still quivering when Hannibal released him, still panting as he pulled his body up Will’s to align their mouths once more. A pitiful whimper fell from his lips and Hannibal devoured it as though it was sustenance to him. Will had never finished in anyone’s mouth, let alone had them kiss him afterwards. He found that Hannibal’s mouth tasted even better laced with his own seed. The kiss was fierce and deep, rising slowly to something more languid, somehow even more intimate, the way that one would slowly rouse from sleep. After a time their lips were merely resting against each other’s as they let out shallow, quivering breaths. Will was vaguely aware that etiquette would demand that he return the favor, but Hannibal seemed content with how they were proceeding.

Eventually Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will and turned their bodies so that Will curled against his chest once again. One hand held him possessively against him while the other twisted through the curls at the nape of his neck, slowly lulling him into a safe and dreamless sleep.

\---

Will stirred, rousing slowly to a solid form around him and the complete and utter feeling of contentment. He wasn’t sure how long he had drifted for, but apparently Hannibal had joined him at some point; the man’s chest rose and fell evenly, his face smooth and peaceful.

Will took the opportunity to examine the body next to his. His gaze fell first to the blanket of chest hair beneath his cheek, smattered through with pale streaks of grey. He let his fingers tangle in it gently, marveling at the juxtaposition of the coarse hair and the silky skin beneath it. His pecs were firm and defined, every muscle lean and seemingly coiled taut under his skin, ready to burst forth with their strength. His shoulders and upper arms--the side that Will could see, at least--were also the picture of virility. It was both a pleasure and a shame to know this; Will wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think of anything else once Hannibal was clad in his three-piece suits again.

While his curiosity regarding Hannibal’s upper body had been sated, Will craved more in-depth knowledge of his workings below. He planted wet, open-mouthed kisses to Hannibal’s neck and collarbone as he shifted their weight to rest Hannibal fully upon his back. He stirred beneath Will’s attention, one hand coming up to stroke through the curls at the nape of his neck. Will slid from his grasp and pulled himself up, perched on his knees to press a searing kiss to Hannibal’s lips before swinging a knee across his body to sit astride his lean hips.

Will paused for a moment to take him in from this angle, laid out beneath him like a feast. Hannibal gazed back up at him, no hint of sleepiness in his sharp eyes. His hands came up to drag along Hannibal’s ribs and chest, noting with amusement the way his body squirmed slightly at the light pressure to his sides, then spread out across his shoulders to pin him down when it appeared he was attempting to move. He cocked his head to the side, pinning Hannibal with a warning look with his wry smirk and raised eyebrow, and Hannibal stilled beneath him, much to Will’s pleasure.

He shifted downward, achingly aware of how hard both of them were becoming, until he was kneeling between Hannibal’s spread legs and contemplating the stiff cock that jutted up betwixt them. Hannibal was large and rigid and uncut, and Will’s tongue poked between his lips as he studied the member and experimentally seized him and tugged down on his foreskin. The movement revealed the head of his cock, red and swollen and already glistening with pre-cum; Hannibal gasped and twitched beneath him. Will leaned down to experimentally swipe his tongue over the fluid, dragging another beautiful gasp from Hannibal and coating his taste buds with a mixture of salt and musk and bitterness that Will found he didn’t dislike. He dragged his hand up and down again in the fashion that he would use on himself and was rewarded with more fluid leaking forth.

This time when he leaned down, Will took the head of Hannibal’s cock into his mouth and suckled gently, continuing the lazy stroke of his hand.

“ _Will_.”

It could have been a gasp or a moan, admonishment or encouragement. All Will knew was that he liked the sound of it, so he continued on, dipping his head lower to test the weight of Hannibal’s cock against his tongue. He was careful to keep his teeth back and attempted to hollow out his cheeks and suck as Hannibal had on his way back up. Hannibal bucked beneath him and hissed something in a foreign language, which Will took as a good sign. He repeated the action a few times, grinding his own leaking cock into the mattress between them. Inspiration struck, his vivid imagination flaring to life to show him the result, and Will pulled back, reaching over to the drawer on his nightstand to retrieve the small bottle of lube he kept there.

Hannibal, though likely far more experienced in these matters, gave no input whatsoever towards Will’s decisions. He seemed more than content to lay back and let events play out with a hungry curiosity. Will coated his fingers in lube, rubbing them together to warm the substance, before gripping Hannibal’s cock and coating him liberally. When the desired goal was met, he moved to his own cock, willing himself with every inch of his being not to spill over as he slicked himself up.

He shifted then so that his hard length rested along Hannibal’s, and drew them both together in his hand. Just being pressed flush against the evidence of Hannibal’s arousal was enough for Will to climax--he had to pause briefly as a delicious thrill shuddered through his body--but he breathed deep and held himself back. He leaned forward to meet Hannibal’s lips once more, and when their tongues drifted out to meet one another’s he stroked his hand up and down around them. The two of them seemed to meld into one being, gasping and shuddering and writhing in time with each other. He bit at Hannibal’s lower lip and stroked them again, unable to stop the groan that wrenched from his throat.

“Wanted this,” he panted against Hannibal’s hot breath as his hand moved between them. “Wanted you…”

“Will... _Will_ ,” was Hannibal’s answering staccato as he sought to connect their mouths again. “Beautiful Will,” he breathed, and Will seized up, his seed spilling forward with a cry, shuddering as he felt Hannibal’s cock throbbing with his release as well.

Will’s orgasm ripped through him and tore away the strength in his arms until he was crumpling, dropping down to melt against Hannibal, their combined seed pressed between their chests. His mouth sought Hannibal’s blindly in instinctual hunger, though they were both so fraught for breath they could scarcely kiss properly. He felt torn; half of him wanting to know where, at all, this development might lead them in the future, the other half completely content to savor every moment of this new experience.

He could keep going through each day even if this was only a one-time deal, he assured himself. Most of him was even complicit in the lie.

“Shower,” Hannibal breathed against him. “Then lunch.”

It felt like the first coherent thought either of them had had in hours. Will nodded weakly, expending the last of his energy into the effort of rolling off of Hannibal’s warm body. The other man shifted and managed to stand from the bed, much to Will’s amazement, before reaching out to pull him along. Will’s body moved in a haze, feeling drugged or drunk or high out of his mind with the euphoria that swelled through him.

Hannibal turned on the shower and pulled them both into the water as if he had performed the actions a hundred times before. Will sighed in the warmth and swayed against Hannibal, who seemed pleasantly amused at his pliancy. Before he could even register how events were playing out he was covered in soap, lathered under Hannibal’s careful ministrations. He brought his own hands up to copy the action, claiming the bar from Hannibal’s hands when he had finished with it and dragging his soapy fingertips languidly across Hannibal’s firm, wet chest, across his shoulders, down his arms, reaching around to grasp a perfectly firm ass. He shivered when their bodies brushed against each other’s, despite the hot spray and humid steam that surrounded them.

Hannibal maneuvered around him to rinse off first, pressing one more heated kiss to Will’s mouth that left him dizzy before exiting the shower to towel off. Will stayed beneath the cascade of water a bit longer, one hand bracing himself on the cool tile as he sluggishly turned over the days events in his mind.

He had been sleepwalking again--out onto the lake this time. Hannibal must have seen him, followed him, saved him from certain death. Hannibal carried him home, stripped them both down to share his warmth in Will’s bed...and then proceeded to give Will the most mind-numbing blowjob he’d ever received. Hannibal was, at the very least, as attracted to Will as Will was to him. A fresh wave of hazy giddiness spread through him again at the realization. Hannibal was perfection personified; what he could possibly see in Will, Will didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He had found it curious that the man had been so adamant on spending his birthday with him... _did_ he intend for this to continue after today? He was likely downstairs now, putting together some incredible lunch with little effort, all for Will.

At the thought, Will’s stomach reminded him that he hadn’t yet eaten. He didn’t even know what time it was. He took one more deep breath to steady himself and then turned off the water, grabbing up the fresh towel Hannibal had left on the rack near the shower to dry himself off. He decided to opt for casual comfort and simply slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

The downstairs was suspiciously absent of four-legged fiends, and a quick glance outside showed his pack tromping and rolling through the snow with glee; Will’s heart stuttered at Hannibal’s attentiveness, though it was just as likely he let them out to keep them out from under foot in the kitchen as opposed to for their own needs. Will followed scent and sound to his kitchen and paused in the entrance, leaning against the door jam to take in the surreal scene of domesticity. Hannibal moved through his kitchen as though he’d done so a hundred times previous, shuffling from his pans on the stove top to the cabinet that held his (sparse) spice rack without a thought.

“I’m pretty sure I had a block of cheese and three eggs in that fridge,” Will noted as he pushed off his leaning post and sauntered into the kitchen. “Possibly ketchup and pickles as well. What on earth have you made me?” He moved over to lean against the counter by the stove, crossing his arms and eyeing Hannibal’s creation on the stove top.

The doctor flashed him a grin before returning his attention to the sizzling pan. “I may have brought a few ingredients with me. Fortunate for us that it was cold enough to leave them unattended in my car for a few hours. Today we are having Japchae; a Korean stir-fry, of sorts.”

Will approached the chef, hovering close against his back to peer over his shoulder as  Hannibal used a pair of tongs to retrieve a mess of clear-looking noodles from a boiling pot and dropped them into the pan of meat and vegetables. Hannibal’s clothes must have dried relatively well, for that was what he had redressed in after their shower, though they were rumpled from being discarded on the floor for several hours. He brought his hands up slowly, unsure, and let them curl gently around Hannibal’s hips; the sweater was warm, impossibly soft. Cashmere, just as Will had suspected.

“What happens tomorrow?” He didn’t want to ask, needed to know. There was a soft, inquisitive sound from Hannibal. “When it’s no longer my birthday,” he expounded.

A soft, _amused_ sound that time. “Do you believe we are only having intercourse today because it’s your birthday?” Will remained silent, embarrassed for bringing it up at all, for debasing what was happening between them to something as simple as birthday sex. “I’ve been attracted to you for some time, Will. I had suspected that the attraction was mutual. A suspicion you have confirmed quite thoroughly today.”

Will’s cheeks flamed at that. “I’m not interested in a tryst. Perhaps I should have said so before... _before._ But I-”

Hannibal finally turned his attention from the stir-fry to Will, flipping off the burner and twisting his body around in Will’s loose grasp. “I’m glad to hear that, Will,” his eyes were as soft as the hand he raised to stroke along Will’s scruffy jaw. “You are more than a fleeting dalliance to me. Perhaps I should have made that clear as well, earlier. Circumstances seemed to drop us into a situation wherein we responded reactively rather than with thought. Though I don’t regret this morning, and I am glad we are on the same--”

Will pushed forward to lock their mouths together, the hands on Hannibal’s waist turning to claws to hold him still. Not that he seemed to desire moving anywhere but closer to Will; he looped his own arms around Will’s low back to cradle him closer. They exchanged soft, languid kisses until they were more sighing against each other’s mouths than anything else.

“If we are going to do this--if we move forward with a relationship,” Will murmured against Hannibal’s perfect lips, “I don’t want anything between us.”

He could feel more than see Hannibal’s lips turn up into a wry smirk at the statement. “Of course,” he agreed.

“Good,” Will breathed against his mouth, pressed forth one more gentle kiss before pulling back enough to look Hannibal in the eye. “Tell me then: is the meat fresh?”

Hannibal blinked at him, too slow to mask his features, obviously taken aback by the question. “Of course,” he replied smoothly, if not a few seconds too late.

Will pressed forward, nuzzling into Hannibal’s neck before dragging his lips up to brush against the shell of his ear. “Did you hunt him just for me?"

Again, it was Hannibal’s body more than his expression that belied his surprise, his hands twitching against Will’s hips in alarm. There was a period of about ten seconds wherein Hannibal didn’t move at all, and then he tilted his head to press their mouths together once more. “Yes,” he breathed, and Will moaned as Hannibal’s tongue slipped into his mouth to mingle with his own.

“No one has ever given me such a gift before,” Will breathed, gasped as Hannibal’s hot mouth left his own to explore the column of his neck.

Hannibal granted a sharp nip to his throat, followed by a soft kiss to the same spot. He drew his mouth up to nuzzle against Will’s ear, sucking the lobe between his lips, catching it with his teeth teasingly as he pulled away. “Well, then, Happy Birthday, Will Graham.”

Will figured then that he wouldn't mind celebrating his birthday next year, either.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, almost forgot: my husband keeps telling me to start telling you guys I'm finally on tumblr.
> 
> Hey, I'm finally on tumblr. I am still figuring out how to do things. My husband thinks I should post there when I put out new stories or chapters and I told him that anyone that cares probably will already be getting emails from AO3, but whatever. Let's give it a go. I promise nothing.


End file.
